Half
by sarcasticrocker86
Summary: For SnowPrinzessin. Angstshipping friendship one-shot. They're just two halves ripped from their Yamis and struggling to move on...


**A/N: **Another requested fic as a present for my good friend **SnowPrinzessin **(Spidey) for Christmas. This one deserves a bit of explanation.

This fic is based off of the roleplaying goings on of Formspring. It's a post-series canon. I will be writing a prelude of sorts of it, that being it's a few weeks after Atem goes to the Afterlife and Yami Bakura is destroyed along with Zorc in the RPG. This is more of a friendship fic than yaoi, but if you want it really badly, you can squint. If you want to check out more of this roleplaying project, the fanfic **Formspring, Fangirls, and Creampuffs** by **Apparitions of Melody **is a big explainer, or you can go to Formspring yourself. Ryou's is **Formspring .me /TheGoodBakura** (just take out the spaces and all that). They're also available on Twitter with the same usernames.

Also note that this, unlike **Traps**, is a fanfic of mine separate from my other fic, **Last Echo**, just to be clear to any of my readers (as if I have my own personal readers. Ha!).

That's about it. It should be enjoyable even if you don't know it. Thanks for listening. Review and let me know what you think.

* * *

He shouldn't be here. He thought this as he fiddled with the frays of his shirt. That same striped shirt... the one he had had to sew back together himself, after the knife wounds. The same striped shirt he had fled from _him _wearing. The same one he had had donned when he was finally set free.

Free... He didn't feel very free. In fact, he felt the exact opposite. He felt like something was still hidden in the shadows, waiting to get him again. It felt like he was all alone again. He felt like he was doomed to spend every dinner again with no voices, not even one in his head. It was sick, but it was a comfort. He sighed, taking his hands off of his shirt. Maybe he should just throw this thing away.

Of course, there was nothing he could do about it now. He shifted in his seat on the couch uncomfortably. He had come to this party his friends had invited him to, and there was no chance of escape any time soon.

He sighed. They knew something was wrong. He found he had difficulty focusing on school, getting homework done right and on time. He always seemed cheerful enough when he was with his friends, but that didn't mean anything. Ryou Bakura had become an expert at plastic smiles.

So here he sat, roped into this party, sitting alone, without much will to get up. What was _wrong_ with him? Did he honestly _want_ that bloody Ring Spirit back? How could he? He hurt everyone, he hurt Ryou! But, try as he might, the boy couldn't ignore that feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had lost something. It would not be easy to get used to.

"Hey, do you mind if I sit here, too?"

Ryou did not look up. "Of course. I'm sorry."

The other laughed. "Don't be. I just wanted a place to eat my pizza without getting it everywhere. I'm sort of a messy eater."

Ryou struggled not to let out a bitter laugh. He doubted anyone could eat as sloppily and with worse table manners as his—

No, no, no! Stop it! That's Battle City you're thinking of! The one where he took you again and used you to hurt the Pharaoh. Nearly killed you to win a duel!

...Saved you...

Why did he feel so conflicted? The Spirit didn't care about him, he knew it didn't. So why was he so confused?

"Are you alright?"

Ryou blinked, staring up at his visitor. "I'm fine..." he started, finally taking in who exactly was beside him. His eyes widened. "Marik?"

Marik Ishtar stared back down at him, looking confused. "Ryou Bakura," he repeated the boy's own name.

"I... Hi," Ryou offered a nervous hand. "It's... um, been a while."

The other boy stared at it, partially still unaccustomed to meeting new people, and partially because he was too busy staring at the white-haired boy to do anything more. Marik faltered. "You don't have to pretend to be polite with _me, _Ryou. I'm sure Yugi and the others have explained everything to you, including Battle City."

Ryou blinked, retracting his hand and setting it on his lap. "I remember some of it," he mumbled.

The Egyptian nodded, bowing his head slightly. "I should go."

Ryou felt his impromptu guest leave his side. It took him a moment before he looked up and called, "No, Marik. Come back."

Marik stared back with a blank look, as though he hadn't registered the words. "Why?"

"Because... I wanted to ask you something." The former Millennium Ring's host shifted eyes. "Can... can we go somewhere private?"

Marik's expression softened. "Sure."

Ryou nearly jumped up and ducked his way out of the house to the backyard, Marik following behind. The air was warm, the summer wind lapping against his skin. Ryou stared up at the stars, rubbing his arm.

"So... what did you want to talk to me about?"

Ryou didn't answer for a moment. He asked quietly, "What made you decide to come back to Domino? Weren't you... afraid everyone would hate you?"

Marik stared, as though not expecting the question. He sighed. "I did some awful things, I know. But I figured..." he fumbled with the words. "It was time for me to move on with my life, and forget about the sins of my past. So, I figured the best way to move on was to not just run away. I had to face what I've done, and try to make up for it."

"...Oh."

There was silence for a moment.

"Why do you ask—?"

"And your Yami? What about him?"

"What about him?"

"Do you ever... nevermind."

"Do I ever... what?"

"I said nevermind."

"Ryou..."

"Do you ever miss him!" Ryou blurted out.

Marik blinked.

"I told you to forget it."

The Egyptian blonde continued looking at the white-haired boy gazing down at his feet, the pale cheeks burning. "Ryou," Marik called quietly. "Sit down with me." Marik sat on the steps and patted a space beside him. Ryou stood dumbly for a moment, but finally set himself down. Marik sighed deeply and leaned back. "When I first banished my Yami, it was the greatest feeling in the world. All of that hatred and pain he caused... gone. It was a good feeling."

Ryou fumbled with the frays on his shirt again as he listened. "And then the adrenaline faded, and I felt... kind of alone."

The silent boy's eyes almost betrayed hope as he turned to Marik. "Y-you did?"

Marik nodded. "Yeah, I felt like..."

Ryou followed, "Like..."

They both finished, "Half of me was gone."

The former tombkeeper breathed quietly. "Yugi understands that lonely feeling, but..."

"But it's _normal_ for him to miss the Pharaoh," Ryou answered the thought.

"The Pharaoh wasn't abusive."

"The Pharaoh didn't use Yugi."

"So it makes sense."

"So what's wrong with us?" Ryou ran a hand through his shining locks in the moonlight.

His companion shrugged. "Maybe it's that... 'Darkness and light' bond thing everyone talks about."

"Yami and Hikari... Like a Yami and his host have a special bond?"

Marik nodded. "Or, maybe," he shrugged again, "it just takes some getting used to."

The former Spirit of the Ring's host pursed his lips and nodded, eyes burning slightly, practically glaring at the sky above.

"But you know..." Marik tentatively put a hand on the striped shoulder, "We could learn together."

Ryou paused. "You... really think we could do it?"

"Yeah. Two halves make a whole, right?"

It took Ryou Bakura a minute before he understood the concept being presented to him and he smiled a true smile back at Marik Ishtar. "You know, you're right." He nodded sharply and smiled even wider. For the first time in weeks, he felt confident in his words. "Two halves make a whole."

"I couldn't have said it better, myself."


End file.
